You awaken feeling strangled, coughing and choking as you fall to your hands and knees. Your eyes open wearily - and you see nothing. Gasping for air, you glance about wildly, disoriented, and realize to your horror that you're in the middle of a vast, black emptiness. Terrified, you instinctively grasp at the void about you for something - anything - solid. You realize that despite the enveloping darkness, your arms glow with a strange light - suddenly you pause and rack your brain for any hint as to what's going on. The last you remember clearly is being sold to Tartarus Inc. You remember them strip-searching you, your last possessions taken away before the coarse-mannered guards threw you into an empty cell. Everything about it seems a struggle to recall - clouded and fogged as though a distant memory.

A glow brightens to your right - in surprise and slight fear, you scoot back across the floor as you try to assess the new threat. A human form, dressed in a Tartarus jumpsuit, appears and crumples to the floor, choking and gasping for breath.

I'm so sorry, the voice says with an air that makes it clear her words are merely a formality. I understand that this experience is mentally agonizing. We're far from perfecting cryotech, you see, but you are here to help us correct that. You are our test subjects. If you ever want to awaken, both of you will cooperate. You've always cooperated with us before, so I have no doubt you'll do so now.

Your mind whirls. You vaguely remember being pulled from your isolation cell - you remember being marched down a hallway, blindfolded, cuffed and gagged - something injected into your arm. That's all you remember. Cryotech? That doesn't even exist...

Then it sinks in: You've always cooperated with us before. "Before???"

It's "brain maintenance," the voice explains in a resigned, curt tone, as though she's said it a hundred times. Cryotech has a tendency to leave one vegetative. Now, the both of you... make your decision, and we will begin.

The void hums, and shivers to life - six pale, golden hexagons of light appear pm the floor around you, spaced well apart. On each: a short paragraph of text.

You feel like you've done this before.

But which to stand upon? And who is this person next to you?

Alien sporeship
Your small salvage team recently chanced upon a migrating Esti'la sporeship. Attacking them is risky (and illegal), but they sometimes feed on human colonies anyway, and your crew is of the opinion that they deserve it. More than that, just a few kilos of juices from their larval pods can sell for tens of thousands.This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

Monster hunter
A large alien beast, an enchridnid, has been sighted rampaging near your colony on the outworld planet Okkrla. Hunt the thing back to its lair, and put an end to it so that it won't be able to cause any harm in the future.This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

Black market
Deep inside an asteroid-based space station, a black market trading deal goes terribly wrong. If you intend to survive the ensuing shootout, you'll need your wits about you - and your guns.This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

Colony eradication
Wipe out the Mataduktun colony on a nearby moon. Nobody likes a Mataduktun, and it's really lowering the property values. Worse, it's likely to attack attention from the coreworlds, and that's the last thing you want. It would put an end to your pirate operation.This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

Fleeing suspect
A major suspect in one of your recent investigations has figured out you were tailing him and fled into "the bad side of town" on Orthus Etienne V - specifically, a hideout for a major local gang, the Black Serpents. You're left with no choice but to follow him through and hope you emerge unscathed.

Something different
You are thrown into a random mission without any idea of what you're up against. It may or may not suit your abilities and loadout.A question mark dominates this particular hexagon.

- This is canon, but your character does not necessarily need to remember it. You have the OOC option to have a mindwipe of the experience post-tryout/pre-campaign. Whether your teammate's character remembers the experience is up to them.
- This is VR. You know this, but your character does not necessarily know this. Whether your character can figure it out is up to your discretion.
- A spaceship silhouette means the mission is CASKET-based.
- Your mission selection is quasi-randomly assigned with a weighted algorithm that takes your personalities, stats, skills, and official loudout into account.
- On average, half your tryout points will come from the tryout mission itself. You are being judged from the moment the thread is posted.
- Each team will have their own tryout thread. Do not post in someone else's thread.
- Type in ((out of character parentheses)) in the tryout thread if you feel it necessary. No need to post elsewhere - it's your thread and no one else's, so you needn't feel bad about cluttering it up.
- There are no maps. As this is VR, it uses "fluid space" as REKT VR traditionally has - that is to say, if you imagine something is there, it may well be there (unless I say it isn't). In a forest and need cover? Say there's a tree next to you and duck behind it. This will probably work. Want a bigger weapon? Say you pick up your death ray from behind the counter - but don't be surprised if I say there's nothing there. Use common sense and don't try to cheat the system - and above all, ignore nothing that I say.
- To activate your choice, both of you must stand on your golden hexagon.
- If you die, that's okay. If you die within the first turn or two, that's not okay.
- Don't be surprised if I cut the mission short. I almost certainly will. These are not meant to be full missions - it is merely a sample to judge from.
- Asking for ideas from other people is completely permitted. Offering ideas is completely permitted as well - as long as you don't do it in someone else's thread.
- Poor performance of your teammate does not mean you do any more poorly in the tryout. You are judged separately.
- I will be judging a number of things, but can't give specifics without compromising the judging process.
- Have fun! If it's not fun for you, let me know, and I'll try to switch things around.

Ugh, where am I? Is this some sort of simulation?Walks over to tiles and inspects them.
Hey, I don't know about you but I'd take this black market mission. The alien sporeship looks like it might be interesting as well.

BFett wrote:Ugh, where am I? Is this some sort of simulation?Walks over to tiles and inspects them.
Hey, I don't know about you but I'd take this black market mission. The alien sporeship looks like it might be interesting as well.

stand up and rub my sore head,
and then take a quick look around the room.
It seems that I'm just a rat in a cage to them. If I had my rifle I'd-Notice Trontos when he speaks,
and stand up to full height
"Well hello there future ally! My apologies for not noticing you sooner. If you give me a moment, I will see try to see what you're talking about"walk over to the hexagons
"The black market hexagon look like a fine mission, and we will have little trouble completing it with me around! I know the black market fairly well, though that's not to say it wouldn't be a cake-walk if I didn't."Chuckles
"The name's Brom, by the way. Brom Keegan."Reach out to shake Trontos's hand

BFett wrote:Briefly shakes Brom's hand
I'm Trontos. Do you want to work out a plan here before we activate this or are you better at plan making under pressure?

(mutters) I guess we are supposed to stand on these to activate them.Stands on the black market hexagon leaving a bit of space for Brom

Shake Trontos's hand vigorously
"It's good that we met, Trontos. You will learn a great deal about me over the course of this mission!
As for plans, we don't have all that much information... Fortunately, you are in the presence of greatness, so stick close to me and you'll be fine!"

Black market
Deep inside an asteroid-based space station, a black market trading deal goes terribly wrong. If you intend to survive the ensuing shootout, you'll need your wits about you - and your guns.This tile has the silhouette of a spaceship underneath the text.

The hexagon below your feet glows to a bright, brilliant gold, shining up around you, casting flickering shimmers across the clothes of you and your companion, rising upwards in a climbing crescendo of light as it drowns out all else - so strong you can almost feel it - almost taste it -

- and then, with a flash... it's gone. There is nothing.

There isn't sound - there isn't light - not even your hands are visible. It's as though naught exists but your thoughts, and that in a vacuum. The world around you darkens even further for a moment - blacker than your mind can even process.

And all is quiet.

It stays that way... but only for a moment.

Suddenly the world transforms: the interior of an asteroid. Your companion stands beside you, across a short, perforated metallic platform from Erubis Afion and two of his bodyguards. Behind you lies Afion's Hideout - a harsh little outpost village with a population of perhaps fifty. It's built on the remnants of an old mining base - exploratory tunnels wind their way through this large hunk of rock almost at random, punctuation by vast chambers where large ore deposits have been mined away. You now stand in the most central of these chambers: Afion's Hideout. It's an old, dusty place - perhaps nearly a century, where Afion's descendants have made their camp. You're here trying to buy ten kilos of AM-254 - a particularly rare anomalous material. It's a grafter - it meshes the molecules of different materials inside of each other and can then be removed to form a solid bond. It's also illegal, thanks to the potential it has in use for nefarious purposes.

"So, what say you boys?" Afion says with a coy smile that forms wrinkles across his cheeks. You can hardly understand him through his thick accent. "eighty thousand, and then we make trade." You flex your fingers nervously. Your deal was for half of that - a mere forty thousand creds. Even that took months to save up for. In the back of your mind, you start going through the layout of the nearby area in case things go south. Behind you is the small outpost - your ships are moored over at the dock, a few hundred feet to the left.

"Well? You talk little, Earther. Not used to helmet?" He gives his faceplate a little tap with his finger, and the four guards with him laugh.

Clearing your throat, you speak up. "We don't have that kind of money, Afion," you tell him firmly. "Our deal was ten kilos for forty, not eighty. We signed a contract."

"Ha, contracts," Afion laughs, waving it away with a hand and the shake of his head. "No no, see. Contract for coreworld bottle-feeders. My prices... they go up," he explains simply. "We got costs to pay, see? Other people want my money - want my AM-264. I only have so little. They want AM-264 more, see. I give to them if you not pay for."

You can't believe what you're hearing. "But we already paid!" you protest. His goons took your money when you landed. "At least give us our money back, and we'll be on our way."

"And what have you to bargain with?" the old man laughs again. "It is you, and twenty of my people. My... soldiers. I pay them, see. I not pay you. ... No no, wait now..." He pauses, looking thoughtful, and eyes your companion. "He stay," he says with an air of kindness, pointing at him. "We keep him here, you bring back the forty thousand more. Come back two weeks, and..." He smiles slyly, with a hint of delight, as he finishes, "...and we might not have gotten to the 'killing part' yet. Good deal, yes?"

You glance over to the left. Your ships are docked less than a hundred meters away. You could reach them...

...but Afion noticed your glance. His brow furrows with contempt; the game is up. "Kill them if they run, boys," he signals his goons. "They can't leave without giving what we want."

There has never been a single negative review of Afion's business... and you think that now, you might have learned why.

Afion's bodyguards eye you carefully. They're dressed in worn, rugged spacesuits - a relic of the old mining days. Not very good for agility or fancy footwork, but they'll take a bit of damage - a bit more than yours will, at any rate. They're lightly armed, with a variety of weapons between them - two assault rifles, a pistol, and a plasma rifle. You get the feeling they purchased these themselves.

One of them smirks at you, folding his arms. Another pats his weapon and winks at you. They're not professionals by any stretch of the imagination. They're there to intimidate and kill. It's not too hard to do either in the vacuum of space.

Speak quietly to Trontos so as not to alert Erubis to my plans.
"It seems that news of Brom the great has yet to reach this little outpost. If you would, get behind me and give them a little something to remember us by. Be prepared for a to return to our ships afterwards. I'll provide cover with my shield"Turn towards Erubis and speak in a loud, booming voice
"You seem to have some difficulty with making successful trades, Mr. Anion.
Luckily I've picked up a decent amount of information related to trade during my extensive travels, which I'd be delighted to share with you when I'm not here on business."Pull out my shield and pistol, while continuing to speak
"You'll learn lots of things! Like how to properly treat your customers, and how to make fair trades while still reaping a huge profit. First thing we'll need to do is get rid of that ogre mask so that- oh that's your face! I'm sorry, I couldn't tell. Looks like I'll be teaching you the basics of personal hygeine as well!"

Once Trontos is finished, retreat with him towards one of the large crates in the direction of our ships, keeping us covered with my shield.
If Afion or his goons come after us while we're retreating
-shoot them with my pistol, aiming for the head or knees if possible. Fire no more than three times.
Once we get to the crates, get behind them and begin running towards our ships, using what cover I can find to keep from getting shot.
If anyone tries to stop us,
-shoot them in the face provided I have bullets left in my pistol to do so.
If we're able to get to our ships
-Get in mine and take off.

((Let me know if I've missed anything, BFett))

Last edited by Hema on Fri Apr 28, 2017 7:47 pm, edited 6 times in total.

While Brom is speaking, nonchalantly pull out grav-shotgun and shoot at the two closest hostile once.
"If you think I'm going to leave here without my partner and collect another forty-k for you, you're crazy."Next toss one of the frag grenades so that most of the hostiles might get caught in the blast.
"Here's a grenade which should make us about even."Then run near to Brom (and stay with him) so that I'm being protected by his shield as we make our way to our ships.

"Kill them if they run, boys," Afion had said. "They can't leave without giving what we want."

Brom
After conferring quietly with Trontos, you turn your attention to Erubis. "You seem to have difficulty with making successful trades, Mr. Anion," you say loudly, puffing out your chest. "Luckily, I've picked up a decent amount of information related to trade during my extensive travels, which I'd be delighted to share with you when I'm not here on business." You note with some satisfaction that the guards seem confused. A strange expression rests on Afion's face; he seems uncertain whether to be amused or angry. You quietly, cautiously pull out your shield and pistol as you continue to speak; not that anyone notices. Their attention is more on Trontos by this point. You try to regain their attention. "You'll learn lots of things!" you say, a bit louder, "Like how to properly treat your customers, and how to make fair trades while still reaping a huge profit. First thing we'll need to do is get rid of that ogre mask so that - " you pause. "Oh, that's your face! I'm sorry, I couldn't tell. Looks like I'll be teaching you the basics of personal hygiene as well!" Afion starts to growl, but suddenly lurches backwards half a foot; his expression changes to one of surprise, and then solid rage. Instants later, the guard directly to Afion's left goes hurtling off into empty space behind the platform as Trontos fires a second round with his gravitic shotgun.

"KILL THEM!" Afion shouts to his goons. "You boys are fools if you thought you could hurt me! I'm always prepared - my Cirrus 500k is the best personal defense shield money can buy - your weapons are useless!" To someone else: "Echelon, get down here! We have a situation!"

You nod to Trontos. Time to get moving - and it's not a moment too soon. You retreat as fast as you can toward the crates behind you as shots fly past - you notice that Trontos is wounded in the chest, too; a suit leak. That's not good. His grenade explodes with a bright flash near the goons; two of them hurtle off the platform, their blood arcing and swirling in surreal patterns of droplets under the platform lights from above. And that just leaves one enemy... not including Afion.

Afion, however, makes it very clear that he's a force to be reckoned with. As you watch him through the transparent metallic riot shield, he brings a massive plasma cannon to bear. One, two, three - it belches out shots in rapid succession, streaming past, one after another - one of them hits your shield dead in the center, charring it and melting the metal on the far side, almost knocking it from your hands and breaking your wrist; your pistol falls from your hand and skitters back across the platform.

Instants later, the final guard reappears - a grizzly brute of a man with a reddish beard - he leaps at you from above, his plassword sparking as it falls. Using all your strength, you heft up your shield to meet the incoming blow; with a shattering crash and sharp burst of fire, you and your shield get knocked backwards. One strike after another falls, and each time you only just barely manage to hold him off. He dances to the side, trying to strike around the edge, but Trontos is there; he backs up and gets toward cover as you reach your pistol, firing a few half-blind shots around the edge of your shield toward him. The first misses, as does the second, but the third hits him squarely in the arm. He falls back, and you retreat behind the huge stack of crates, so close to your ships...

...but it's not over yet.

A jetpack-packing man lands before you on the platform, halfway between you and your ships, with such force that it rattles and shakes; he leaps to his feet, weapons at the ready - and as FSM is your witness, he's armed to the teeth. You know him immediately by his etched-steel helmet: decorated in the likeness of a flaming skull, it glints cruelly in the light. It is, of course, Echelon - a bounty hunter of legends, known to be in the employ of Afion himself. Tales of his cruelty reach all across this sector. He never kills you straight out - he lets you bleed to death slowly, over the course of hours, as his removes one finger after another - and then your toes - and then... well, in this case, hopefully none of that will happen at all. You have little hope of defeating him... but perhaps you can find a way around.

Trontos
As Brom begins his little speech, you quietly take out your grav shotgun, pretending to be scratching your neck. Brom is excellent; it keeps their eyes off of you long enough for you to get it hidden just behind your back... until the moment is right. You leap forward, firing a shot at Afion himself - the closest enemy... but it has almost no effect. He lurches backwards half a foot, his expression changing to one of surprise - and then solid rage. You aim to the guard just to his left and fire a second shot; he goes hurtling off nicely into space.

"KILL THEM!" Afion roars to his goons. "You boys are fools if you thought you could hurt me! I'm always prepared - my Cirrus 500k is the best personal defense shield money can buy - your weapons are useless!" To someone else: "Echelon, get down here! We have a situation!" Cirrus 500k, eh? No wonder you couldn't hurt him.

Brom gives you a nod. Time to get moving - but you're just a little too slow. A plasma shot wings you in the chest with a sharp explosion that feels like it fractures your ribs (and certainly destroys a chunk of flesh). Air begins escaping through the gap - not enough to worry about at the moment, but you'll need to be back in atmospheric pressure within minutes or you'll lose consciousness. Hurriedly, you get behind Brom, and the two of you begin retreating toward your ships as bullets fly past, clanging and clacking against the metal of his riot shield.

You fling a grenade in Afion's direction, and it explodes with a bright flash near the goons; two of them hurtle off the platform, their blood arcing and swirling in surreal patterns of droplets under the platform lights from above. And that just leaves one enemy... not including Afion. He soon reappears - a grizzly brute of a man with a reddish beard, leaping at Brom from above and trying to kill him with his plassword. Trontos barely manages to hold him off, and the two of you retreat behind the huge stack of crates, so close to your ships...

...but it's not over yet.

A jetpack-packing man lands before you on the platform, halfway between you and your ships, with such force that it rattles and shakes; he leaps to his feet, weapons at the ready - and as FSM is your witness, he's armed to the teeth. You know him immediately by his etched-steel helmet: decorated in the likeness of a flaming skull, it glints cruelly in the light. It is, of course, Echelon - a bounty hunter of legends, known to be in the employ of Afion himself. Tales of his cruelty reach all across this sector. He never kills you straight out - he lets you bleed to death slowly, over the course of hours, as his removes one finger after another - and then your toes - and then... well, in this case, hopefully none of that will happen at all. You have little hope of defeating him... but perhaps you can find a way around.

"Excellent work there, Trontos; I almost didn't need my shield. Don't think we can fight our way past this guy.
Your awesome ability to act as armor will do little to protect you here. We need to find a way to sneak past him. Perhaps we can shoot him in the back when we reach our ships. That'd teach him not to mess with us."

((I'll do actions tomorrow. Don't have time to do them tonight. Bitterness on Brom's part will get better as I learn how to do it properly.))

Angrily: "Yeah, a few times, though I generally try to avoid getting shot. Now because of you, we're on a time limit." Coldly: "You can think about your injury later. Right now, we need to get to the ships. Stay behind my shield and move with me to those crates on our right; we can use them as cover while we move to our ships. And be sure to keep your head down! An injured partner is bad enough, I don't need a dead one. Also, keep your weapons up, if Elchion finds us, we'll need them."

Run to the crates on my right,
and try to use them as concealment/cover.

Once I'm to the crates,
sprint towards my ship and begin loading my pistol.
Should Elchion follow us,
keep my shield facing him,
and try to take a few shots at him when my pistol is loaded (try to aim for his head, chest, and jetpack.)

When/if I arrive at my ship,
get in, and take off.
If possible,
-Shoot Elchion once with my railgun to finish him off.

Equip the crossbow and ensure that a Barbed+Explosive bolt is loaded.
Follows closely behind Brom getting into cover as quickly as possible.
Shoot at the largest group of hostiles once, if no group exists shoot at the bearded guy.
Shoot at Elchion the other two times.